


You're My Eternal Muse

by pinesmabel99



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-30 18:20:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19408786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinesmabel99/pseuds/pinesmabel99
Summary: Art is messy and personal. Naruto, besides being a shinobi of Konoha, is a self-proclaimed artist because of these fleeting moments all around him, fading as they happen in front of him. Then, he faced one moment he wants to live in for forever.





	You're My Eternal Muse

**Author's Note:**

> naruhina is god tier. jot that down. also i have something to add here but I’d like to know what you guys think of this!

_It’s a miracle I’m allowed to go to the market,_ Hinata subtly marvels in her thoughts. Her brief freedom isn’t whole as she holds the hand of her bodyguard, her little feet struggling to keep up with him and the kitchen staff that she’s basically hiding behind his legs.

For a moment, she wonders why Otosan granted her request. She’s been taught that the Hyuga compound is a safe haven for them; especially for the Main Branch of the family. Perhaps it’s to relieve her of the day’s training; to eliminate her humiliation for another day.

“Would you want an apple, Hinata-sama?” One of the female cooks asked her. They’re a pair of women, tasked to buy supplies for the compound. Hinata felt curious to what they buy and sees this as a ticket to see other places than the compound.

She nods and pointed to the reddest, shiniest apple, sitting atop the other apples. “May I please have this?”

The blonde bobs her head. “Of course, Hinata-sama!” She turns but the merchant was talking to the person at the other booth.

“That brat did his stunts again, huh?” He snarled; a sort of anger she has never seen on anyone.

His companion grunts, crossing his arms across his chest. “We can’t complain because he has no parents. I can’t even say the boy’s name! It’s taboo, you know? He’s such a nuisance to our village, _honestly.”_ His gruff tone, like he _really_ hates the faceless boy, scared Hinata.

Ko must’ve noticed for he patted Hinata’s head. “Excuse me, but we’re here to buy.” He intervenes, before their conversation turns more heated and the men will ignore them longer. His ward shouldn’t be wandering the streets in an extended time; it’s unwise.

The merchant murmurs his apologies. The staffs list off the necessities, arranging the time when the purchased products can be delivered at the compound.

They move on to the next item on the list; meat and herbs.

Hinata stays behind Ko, holding his hand and surveying the relaxing scenery of Konoha in a lazy Saturday afternoon. She smiles at the flower shop they passed by; there are too many flowers for her to count! She tries to name them all but she’s pulled into a corner and they’re at the meat shop.

“He painted the shop not so far from here. Thank Kami we’re saved!” The beefy man grunts as he packages the requested meats for them.

Hinata wants to ask if there’s a thief running around town, plaguing these hard working people but there’s blood on his apron and he holds a large knife. She scoots closer to Ko.

When they exit the shop, Hinata biting into her apple, she only felt a gust of wind skimming past her face. Then, the apple falls to the ground.

“Hey, you brat!” A man yells, chasing a blonde boy, with his fist raised.

But the boy is too fast for the adults as he laughs aloud, announcing an eccentric thing; that he, Uzumaki Naruto, will be the Hokage. He runs past the Hyuga group, in such a speed that Hinata’s fruit slips past her palm.

She blinks, staring at his retreated figure, realizing he’s the same odd classmate that always fails in almost everything. The one thing he succeeds in is making the class erupt in laughter. She didn’t know he likes to paint over shop signs in sloppy, almost angry faces with ruby red paint.

“Are you alright, Hinata-sama?” The women and Ko fret over her shocked reaction.

She smiles at them. “Yes.”

“That boy is _such_ a trouble. It’ll be worrying if he studies at the Academy, no?” The blonde sighs and shakes her head. “I wouldn’t feel safe if he wears our headband, to be honest.”

 _Maybe they did something to him?_ Hinata thinks, staring at all the nonsensical designs Naruto placed on numerous shops. By the disgusted looks of the women, she thinks it’s a silly question to ask. They’re set on thinking Naruto is a bad person.

She makes a move to follow Naruto, to ask him why he does it but Ko gently pulls her back. Staring up at him, he shakes his head.

“It’s not wise, Hinata-sama, to associate yourself with that rebellious boy.” He advises.

Hinata wished Otosan didn’t let her go to the market. She has seen and heard things that confused her greatly.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Hinata sits on a different row from him, thank goodness.

She can ogle at him while she tries to listen to Iruka Sensei discuss their lessons. He’s very cute; it’s the constant thought she has for him. Other than that he’s awfully brave for shouting out things like becoming the Hokage, beating Sasuke-kun, when all he does is gets laughed at.

Recess came by and everyone crowds to the door, clutching their packed lunch, talking and laughing.

Choji pokes Naruto’s head but the sleeping blonde doesn’t notice. “Shikamaru, what should we do?” He asks the dark haired boy.

“We should let him drool on his desk. He won’t woke up and it’ll just be a pain to try.” The disinterested boy dismisses, then meets up with Kiba and they exit the classroom.

She’s the only one left in the classroom, staring at Naruto and listening to his snores. Gathering up courage, ignoring the heat of her face, she wobbles over to her crush. Her heart flutters deep in her chest, the butterfly’s wings brushing on her insides and she’s certain her face is blatantly red.

Poking her shoulder several times and _still_ he doesn’t respond. So, Hinata pokes him harder, and then squeaks when he starts to sit up, rubbing his head. His large, sky like eyes peer at her through drowsiness and he’s drooling a little bit.

“W-what…” He groans.

“R-Recess…” Hinata whispers, averting her eyes away from him and her fingers play with the hem of her hoodie.

The blond grunts in acknowledgement to the answer. He glances at the shy girl, sensing that she wants to say something else. “You want to ask me something or-“

“-You c-could try drawing on paper.” Hinata blurts, staring at his shoulder, not having enough strength to look at him on the face. “I-It’s safer than painting over signs and shops.” Her voice trembled but she managed to finish her sentence.

Naruto tilts his head to one side, frowning. “I only have paint, you know. I don’t have any crayons.” He answers, his messy hair momentarily hid the sadness glinting in his eyes but Hinata caught it; being observant as she always is.

She reaches from her side and takes out a box of her crayons. She also threw in two sharpened pencils. “Here, y-you can take mine.” She suggested, placing the box on his desk when all he did was stare at her in disbelief.

“What? No! It’s yours.”

“Please, I don’t mind.” Hinata insists. She wants to fan herself. Gosh, talking to her crush for this long and she hasn’t fainted? Perhaps this is a weird dream. She’s suggesting Konoha’s number one troublemaker to draw instead of vandalizing.

His hand rests on the container, eying her with caution. Does he expect her to tease him? Or shout mean things at him? “Thank you?” The statement inclines in question as suspicion is more obvious at how guarded he is.

“If you start d-drawing on your notebook, the p-people might not scold you anymore, Naruto-kun.” Hinata mumbles, uncertain of how he’ll react. He often expresses himself like an explosion; bursts of energy and the people around him don’t know what to do.

He grins and the sun shines on the goggles he wears. “I’ll practice then? Say, what’s your name?”

“Hyuga Hinata!” She says before she turns, goes down the steps, and runs out to the yard where the rest of her classmates are. Her hands cover her heated cheeks and she’s grinning to herself, proud that she held a conversation that long.

She missed Naruto shouting back a “Wait, what’s your name again?”

The next time Hinata goes to the market, no vendor complains about Naruto’s vandalism. She straightens her shoulders, smiling wide as the cook hands her a pear to snack on.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

With his monthly expenses, he makes space for buying a new notebook when the current one is filled of his doodles.

His sketches weren’t anything impressive, enough to be called art. It’s the mindless drag of a pencil on paper when he’s out of his mind _bored_ in class. Sometimes, he likes to make it exciting by using the gifted crayons. To fill in the misshaped animals dancing around the pages and the colours adds more depth to his wild imagination.

Sometimes, he spends hours, tucked on corner with his hand hovering on the notebook until his wrists start to ache. Whenever he’s bored, he looks back at his previous works, laughing at how weird they look but then the sound echoes in his apartment. Making it known how he’s the only occupant at the moment.

Years pass by, so many things have happened but he finds drawing to be a source of comfort. He buys a smaller notebook so he can easily tuck it away during missions. When a battle occurs, sometimes the notebook falls out and gets trampled or destroyed. He hates it when that happens; the things he drew or the short lines of emotions can’t be retrieved anymore.

Sakura notices his hobby and asks him about it. She looked so pretty in the candlelight, her short pink hair is softer, the green in her eyes are brighter, and her smile was really cute.

When he shows her his journal, she giggles and says he’s such a fool for drawing things like that; vague monsters chasing each other, inaccurate figures of Shikamaru, CHoji, and Kiba. He blushes at making her laugh.

“When did you start to draw? I never knew.” Kakashi hummed, staring over at Sakura’s shoulder. He seems amused as he holds his most sacred perverted book.

_Hinata-chan gave me crayons and pencils when we were at the Academy._

Naruto hesitated; he felt this memory to be private. He recalls the day; her polished lilac eyes staring at him with so much faith in him that until now, he feels baffled by it. The box of the crayons is still at his apartment, kept in the bottom drawer. The crayons are all gone, too frequently used, but he couldn’t throw the box away.

“Since the Academy.” Naruto answers, ignoring Kakashi’s inquisitive look.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

He knows he isn’t as good as Sai.

Mostly because his hobby for drawing isn’t a specialized ninjutsu to be used in battle or intel. In his apartment, he has kept almost a fifty notebooks, in the past years; along with the crayon box Hinata gave him a lifetime ago.

“Ah, you’re smiling.” Sai observes, his dark eyes blink at him. “That means you’re thinking of a happy memory, right?”

Naruto nods.

He shows him the latest notebook, muttering that the drawings are dumb, poorly done, and it’s just a stupid hobby he can’t shake off.

But Sai assesses them with concentration. “You think if I could enhance them, would they stand chance against my drawings?” He wonders.

They launched into a debate that lasted hours long, both of them laughing by the camp fire. Their conversation went wilder and funnier that Naruto clutched his stomach, gasping in laughter when Sai pointed out that his bird could definitely eat Naruto’s sketches.

Sakura throws a pillow at them, scolding them to go to sleep. She rolls away from them, pulling the blanket tighter and grumbles until she falls asleep again.

“This isn’t over, Sai!” Naruto promises.

“I hope not. This was… fun.” Sai decides. “But I win this round.”

They didn’t realize they were arguing again until Sakura quite literally yells at them she can _put_ them to sleep. The boys scramble to their sleeping bags.

Kakashi, witnessing the entire scene, quietly laughs into his face mask. _They’re getting along really nicely. I’m glad._

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

When he starts to date Hinata, the love of his life, he tries to sketch a real person now. Aside from the doodles he does for his friends, he never really studied human anatomy or their features in his drawings.

But his girlfriend is otherworldly beautiful; so much that some dude on the moon believed that Hinata should be his wife. He doesn’t want to think about that again.

When they go on walks around town, he studies her, like an artist would. He makes notes of how thick her eyelashes are, her nose possesses that Hyuga grace in its slope, her pink mouth is bowed and so damn kissable.

Could that be conveyed in drawing? He could try.

In blue moon rare events when Hinata returns to a mission, late in the night, he manages to convince her to sleep at his apartment. They’re both new to intimacy and they almost never do anything when he invites her over. Usually, the moment she places her head on his pillow, she falls asleep.

But then, Naruto positions himself facing her, sitting against the wall, and he begins his practice. First, they were such horrible interpretations of her beauty he wanted to break his pencil in irritation.

He loves her. How can he make her weird looking with his own doing? Unacceptable!

It took almost two years, much to his absolute delight, that Naruto begins to understand the difficulty of drawing such a perfect being as the girl on his bed.

In his drawings though; he likes to let his fondness take over. She is always smiling at him, her mouth curving happily and it confuses and thrills him to know that he can make her smile like that. Though his trials aren’t perfect, it’s enough for anyone to know who he’s trying to draw. _Trying,_ he says as he massages his wrist, _I can never capture her beauty or the profound kindness in her heart by her smiles. It’s just indescribable._

One night, Hinata is softly snoring, head buried in the pillow, and wears his black and orange jacket. It’s too large on her, she lazily rolled the sleeves before she pressed a kiss on his cheek. But now, hours later, he couldn’t see her hands, the end of the jacket stops mid-thigh.

Naruto knew it would be a goddamn tragedy if he didn’t try to draw this overwhelming moment. After staring at her, running his fingers through her dark hair, he decides he should make this scene permanent if he could help it.

He doesn’t know how long it has been; the wane moonlight streaming in through the window serves as his light. He focuses on the more delicate features like the curve of her lips, the column of smooth skin exposed to him, and how at complete ease she is in his home. His heart just dances thinking about it.

“When will you show me your drawings?” A drowsy voice asked. It was Hinata, rubbing her eye, as she stares at him with those large pale eyes with blatant adoration for him.

Naruto thinks this is a dream.

He leans forward, murmuring an apology for waking her up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He denies, his hand cupping the back of her neck and he nuzzles into her neck, breathing in the flowery scent imprinted there; something sweet and tantalizing that only belongs to the woman in his arms.

“I wake to see that you don’t cuddle with me. Y-You’re always drawing and I don’t want to disturb you.” Hinata explains, her cold nose pressing into his cheek as she moves closer to him.

He lets her, loving how she curls up to him like a kitten. Blinking, he pulls back when he felt her swift hands snatch the notebook. ”Hey, that’s so mean!” He whines, trying to get it back.

Hinata giggles; carefree as she opens it to the most recent page. The laughter dies on her tongue as she stares at the figure; the meaning of it can only be one. Her hands curl tighter on the notebook and Naruto’s hearts sinks into the pit of his stomach.

He knows it’s too soon. They’re too young. Their lifespan is estimated to not last that long.

But seeing Hinata in his jacket, sleeping on his bed, it’s impossible to _not_ think of Hinata bearing his name and for them to live in a proper house with a larger bed. His heart races at the thought of being able to return from missions and to come back to Hinata’s gentle snoring, to feel her hands rest on his chest like she has to make sure he’s still with her.

Beisde the rough sketch of Hinata’s sleeping figure, there is a scrawl of his penmanship: _Uzumaki Hinata._

Yet now, seeing her muted reaction, Naruto felt so embarrassed by the weight of his wistfulness. “I-I know its dumb and we’re too young. Your dad might murder me if-“

“-Yes.” Hinata whispers, looking at him.

“Yeah, your dad will kill me. I’m so sorry, hime. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable by my fantasies.” Naruto apologizes, shaking his head and reaches for her hand.

She frowns at him, crawling over to his side of the bed. She cups his cheeks with her heads, bringing their foreheads together; the sweetness of her breath is like a drug to him now. “Yes, I will be Uzumaki Hinata. It would be an honour, Naruto-kun.” She whispers, eyelashes brushing on her slowly reddening cheeks.

They’re both grinning fools, eyes roaming on the others shocked and ecstatic expressions. Their hands hold on each other like this is a deceitful nightmare and they’ll wake up with no answer but a taunting reality.

He blinks at her. “Are you that impressed with my poor drawing skills?” He wonders. He hugs her when she leans forward, giggling into his shoulder.

“That’s why I want to marry you, Naruto-kun. You could practice more if we live together.” Hinata teases him before pressing a kiss on his jaw. “And being your wife sounds good too.”

“Your priorities are a mess, soon to be Uzumaki.” Naruto half-heartedly scolds but he scoots her closer to him, tucking her under his chin before he flops down on the bed.

They fall asleep, with the notebook still open on the drawing that unintentionally led to a proposal. Naruto doesn’t mind, he thinks, as he hugs Hinata tighter.

From now on, it’ll be one of the many nights they’ll be sleeping on the same bed.


End file.
